


he hit me (and it felt like a kiss)

by SpaceQueer



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, Bottom Sherlock Holmes, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, EnCon, Enthusiastic Consent, Halloween, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Sherlock Holmes gets enthusiastically pegged, Top John Watson, Waxplay, bottomlock, dicking down, excessive daddy kink like you don't even know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-19
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-31 19:18:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8590492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceQueer/pseuds/SpaceQueer
Summary: “I didn’t know we were celebrating Halloween this year,” Sherlock commented.“Well, we are.”“And how does this involve fire-risk?”“I’ve got plans for tonight,” John asked smirked, “Want to know?”

 
Or: how Sherlock gets pegged for Halloween.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I know it's not nearly halloween anymore but time is an illusion. and porn is good for the soul.
> 
> beta's/britpicked by [Bee @flamboyantdetective](http://flamboyantdetective.tumblr.com/tagged/martin)

“I didn’t know we were celebrating Halloween this year,” Sherlock piped up from his armchair. He was curled over one of John’s old medical journals, yet straying a little longer than strictly necessary on the diagrams of cis men. John had been lighting candles throughout the flat for the past twenty minutes and knew the question was inevitable. They littered every available surface from the coffee table to the bookshelf to the kitchen bench and it was of a multitude that had never been seen at 221b. John had spent a good half hour after grocery shopping browsing through the available candles. There was a multi-coloured range, and a series of sparkly ones and some were even skull-saped and small tea lights and thankfully all on sale for the festive season.

 

“Well, we are,” John replied, binning a fists-worth of used matches.

 

Sherlock frowned at the candles, more so in confusion than disgust, “and how does this involve fire-risk?”

 

John sat down in his armchair opposite Sherlock, noticeably attentive in his posture. “I’ve got plans for tonight,” he smirked, “Want to know?”

 

Sherlock softened immediately, “Oh, please.”

 

John gave Sherlock a dirty look, saying “I thought we’d try something new tonight. Know much about waxplay?” Sherlock’s eyes widened in astonishment, yet he offered no response.

 

John sobered and asked, instantly concerned, “do you want to do it? You don’t have to, there’s no pressure. Half of the appeal of candles is purely aesthetic.”

 

“No, no. I  _ want _ to,” Sherlock hastened to reply, almost tripping over his words as he did so. He took a calming breath before continuing. “I’d just never thought about it.”

 

With his conscience eased, John returned to his previous smugness. “Well, then. Come over here and give Daddy a kiss.”

 

Sherlock bit his lip, and practically sauntered the short distance until he lowered himself to straddle John’s legs. Sherlock leaned in and gave John a chaste peck, but lingered there, breathing the same air. John ran his hands up Sherlock’s back, cupping his head and tangling his fingers in the curls there. Sherlock mewled as John’s gently nails grazed his scalp. Ever so slowly, John leaned in again, going for a deeper kiss. Sherlock was hardly the sort to be satisfied with slow and was soon outright grinding on John’s lap. John started mouthing his way down Sherlock’s neck when he winced at how tight his jeans had become. Sherlock stiffened immediately and would have moved away had John’s arms not restrained him.

 

“No, no, don’t do that,” John murmured, “You’re just getting me far too hard and this jeans are unforgiving. Be a good boy and take them off for me.”

 

Sherlock blushed and unzipped John’s fly, eyes hungry at the shape of John’s half-hard cock. Sherlock sprang from John’s lap and disrobed John entirely in record time before settling upon him once again, this time pumping John lazily. John began to undo Sherlock’s buttons, but barely had the patience to do half before he was bending down to lap at Sherlock’s pink nipples. Sherlock arched his back, abandoning John’s cock. His breath hitched as John ran his teeth over the pebbled skin, merely a threat but enough to set Sherlock’s skin alight.

 

“J-John,” Sherlock moaned, “please just fuck me. The candles are nice but let’s just go now.”

 

John stopped and straightened his spine, his face turned cold. Sherlock knew he’d made a mistake but it was too late now. Despite the obvious height difference and John’s lack of clothes, Sherlock cowered before him. “Are you telling me,” he said, using a voice that commanded armies, “that you want this to be over with? That after all my preparation, you want to use me just to get off as if I’m no less than a dildo?”

 

Sherlock bit his lip and shook his head profusely, “No, daddy, I’m sorry I didn’t mean that, I just mean-”

 

“Go to your room.” John didn’t shout, he didn’t even demand. He just said it and he knew it would happen without question.

 

Sherlock slumped off John’s lap and stalked back to his room, trying not to let his body language betray how dejected he felt, albeit with a raging hard-on. 

 

“And don’t you  _ dare _ touch yourself,” John called as Sherlock lay on their bed on his back. He couldn’t help feeling he should have known better but it was no secret that Sherlock lacked impulse control. Sherlock lay and tried to occupy his mind but his body felt like it was thrumming with anticipation which was not helped at all by his erection or the candles that were strewn around the room. The only coherent thought Sherlock felt capable of was that this absurd amount of candles must have been a fire hazard.

 

After what could have been a minute but could have been an hour, John came back into the room, still bare but not quite as foreboding. He lay down beside Sherlock on the bed and faced him. “Are you sorry?” he asked.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Are you going to be a good boy this time?”

 

Sherlock tried very hard not to do puppy-dog eyes. “Yes.”

 

“I’m glad you didn’t touch yourself, I was listening to see if you would.” Sherlock preened at this and started letting his eyes roam John’s body, anxious to get his hands on it again. “I’m sorry I snapped at you, babe,” John said. “Shall we get back to it?” Sherlock nodded emphatically. John got Sherlock to hop off the bed so he could place a plain white sheet over the duvet. After Sherlock was settled on his front on the bed, John picked up a black candle from the bedside table. “I’m gonna need you to lie very still,” John murmured. “Because if this gets everywhere, it will be very hard to clean.”

 

“Yes, daddy,” Sherlock answered, body quivering with his eagerness.

 

“And you know your safewords? What are they?”   
  


“Red means stop altogether, yellow means stop for now,” Sherlock’s expression was telling John to get on with it, but this time he had learned not to voice this.

 

“I can’t see your face so you’ll have to tell me if it hurts too much.” John climbed onto the bed and sat on Sherlock’s thighs, lifting up the candle and letting just a small droplet fall onto the swell of Sherlock’s left arsecheek. Sherlock gasped but made no move to complain. John let a few more drops fall, this time landing on Sherlock’s lower back and pooling for a second before cooling and hardening. Sherlock didn’t say anything but continued to gasp and moan quietly as John decorated Sherlock’s body with the wax. 

 

It wasn’t long until Sherlock began to grind softly into the mattress, the sheet below him was twisted in his hands as he tried to ground himself. John took notice of this and, with a small smile, John brought his hand down and gave Sherlock a loud slap right over his crack.

 

“D-did I do something wrong daddy?” Sherlock asked, far too gone to be actually anxious but playing the part all the same.

 

“At this rate, you’ll never last,” John chastised, absent-mindedly running his fingers up and down Sherlock’s crack. “How does the wax feel.”

 

“Oh daddy,” Sherlock moaned, “I’ve never been harder it feels so good.”

John started grinding on Sherlock, allowing his cock to lip between Sherlock’s cheeks and rutting against him. He poured more wax, this time on Sherlock’s shoulder blade. John’s cock rubbed against Sherlock’s hole and Sherlock gasped, pressing back into John in reciprocation.

 

Sherlock turned his head to look at John over his shoulder. “Am I making you hard, daddy?” Sherlock asked coyly, “do you want to fuck me? To fill me up?”

 

John groaned. In his enthusiasm, he blew out the candle so hard a small amount wax spattered onto Sherlock’s back, and after kissing Sherlock better, he reached over to return the candle to the bedside table. “Oh, I want to,” John replied, leaning over Sherlock’s wax-covered back to mouth at his ear as he spoke. “I just don’t know if I have the patience. Will you be a good boy and not come?”

 

Sherlock nodded and John reached over to the bedside table to retrieve the lube and started slicking up his fingers. Sherlock was so wound up that it took a while for him to relax so John could open him up. John was soon pumping three fingers into Sherlock and licking at the edge of his hole. John took his cock, which had flagged slightly during the proceedings, in his hand and gave it a few pulls until he was properly hard again. He lined up with Sherlock’s hole and eased in. Sherlock groaned, he had been slightly underprepared in their eagerness to get on with it, but he relished the slight burn as John stretched him to breaking point. As John reached the hilt, they both stopped a moment to catch their breath and readjust. John waited until Sherlock began moving his hips to begin thrusting in earnest. John set an unforgiving pace and Sherlock’s cries rose in volume. If John were a better man, he’d be worried about saving the neighbours from hearing this but as it was, John took some small satisfaction from wholly  _ owning _ this man and making the world jealous. 

 

“How do you like that, baby? Rough enough for you?” John asked, voice all husk by now.

 

Sherlock only managed an affirmative moan that almost sounded like “yes daddy.” Sherlock’s head lolled while John’s hips snapped in and out of him, hitting his prostate almost every time. Sherlock’s arms started getting weak so John found himself putting an arm around Sherlock’s middle to keep him in place, balancing on his other arm. 

 

“C-can I come daddy?” Sherlock begged, his skin now slick with sweat. “Please I really want to.”

 

“Of course,” John grunted. He flipped Sherlock onto his back, and started pumping Sherlock in time with his thrusts. “Come all over me baby, I want to see,” he said.

 

John managed to find the energy to give a few particularly forceful thrusts, watching Sherlock’s face with relish as Sherlock’s mouth formed a tiny ‘o’ as Sherlock stilled and came, painting their abdomens. Sherlock’s muscles clamped down on John’s dick, and it wasn’t long before John followed suit.

 

John took a moment before he realised he was slumped over Sherlock, with sticky semen cooling between them. He gingerly slipped out of Sherlock and fetched a towel before cleaning an incredibly sleepy Sherlock. Sherlock was barely conscious (and of that John rather envied him) while John checked over the skin of his bum and back for burns or injuries. Sherlock half-heartedly batted John away but John prevailed, taking out some lotion from the bedside table and massaging it into Sherlock’s arse. Sherlock released a slight moan and John chuckled.

 

“You’re insatiable, aren’t you?” John said, all the while giving Sherlock’s arse cheeks an almost forceful squeeze.

 

“Just give me… twenty minutes,” Sherlock mumbled, barely keeping his lisp out of his words.

 

John merely laughed and lay next to Sherlock, pulling the covers over them and putting the lotion back on the bedside table. “I love you, Sherlock,” John said, kissing Sherlock’s curls and wrapping Sherlock in his arms.

 

“Love you too,” Sherlock huffed, moving closer to lean on John’s chest.


End file.
